


The Difference

by Omnicat



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: F/F, old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 21:57:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6257455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnicat/pseuds/Omnicat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A heated argument.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Difference

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Nederlands available: [Het Verschil](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9102523) by [CattyRosea (Omnicat)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnicat/pseuds/CattyRosea)



"I hate war!" Fiercely, passionately.

"I love war." Just as fierce, just as passionate.

Pale blue to pale blue, two delicate, pale faces, identical passion. The only contrast the frame of hair, curly wine-red to sleek blond.

"It took your father away, how can you possibly love it?"

"It brought your brother back, how can you possibly hate it?"

There was no way for this argument to ever be solved rationally. They both knew that. And they both knew how it _was_ going to be solved. This fight was ancient, older even than their relationship.

In fact, it had started their relationship.

To Catherine, Dorothy had been a high-class one night stand, exitingly exotic. To Dorothy, Catherine had been a tool in the game she and her then boyfriend played in an attempt at making the other jealous, amusingly primitive. But Catherine’s lack of civilisation had rubbed off on Dorothy, and the scent of Dorothy’s expensive perfume remained vivid in Catherine’s mind, so when Dorothy’s relationship stranded, like so many before it, they met back up and stayed in touch. The appeal of the unknown turned into soothing familiarity, they found identification and agreement on many levels.

And when it seemed the gap could not be bridged, when the schism ran too deep, they went back to basics, made the other forget she ever disagreed, that she ever _thought_ at all.

Catherine growled and turned away, Dorothy grabbed her by the arm and spun her around again. Lips crushed violently, lipstick smeared and one cheek was dealt a stinging slap.

Dorothy threw her head back and grinned, enjoying the tingling sensation. "Ah, you see..."

"No, never again! Not this time -"

"Yes... Love is war, my dear Catherine. And you know it just as well as I."

"No! Dorothy, don’t you dare say it -"

"I love you, Catherine."

Catherine cried out and flailed her arms, flinging away the very idea with desperate force. Dorothy gently took her shoulders and eased her lover back into her lap. The kisses started slowly, lips, cheeks, jaw, down to a long throat and protruding collarbone, bony chest and firm breasts, down, all the way down.

"I hate you, Dorothy, I -" between moans. Pale fingers eased away lace to make room for oh so skilful, oh so experienced lips and tongue, licking and sucking the sensitive nipple as the fingers crept lower. Electricity shot down from the breast, through the belly straight down to the groin, and mingled with the immediate stimulation there.

"Ah!" Catherine’s head flopped back, her moans increased in frequency and volume. "I hate you - I hate you - I hate you - ah! Damnit, Dorothy I love you, please!"

The lips on her breast smirked.

This was the way they both knew to solve every fight, to level every difference that would distance other people. Many often wondered how a relationship like theirs, between two so vastly different women, could ever work. But Dorothy and Catherine worked. It had better; Catherine had given up her job for it, and Dorothy had gotten used to groping the one who made the beds in the morning and brought her coffee and a newspaper. One would give what the other did not have, and both would gain what they could never find alone.

Any friction caused in the process was welcomed. After all, what _was_ the difference between love and hate?

"See?" Dorothy whispered, smiling sleepily as Catherine licked her now slippery fingers.

"Of course, love." Catherine said soothingly. She kissed the blonde’s bruised lips. "I love you, Dorothy."

"And I hate you too, Catherine."

Sometimes, there is none.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments on older fics will ALWAYS remain welcome.


End file.
